Merely in Love
by thechosenone305
Summary: Acceptance to himself came in form of two bleeding novices.


**Hey gang! I've been meaning to post this. I don't own Assassin's Creed. Enjoy!**

If Malik were to be told that he'd be in love with Altair a few years ago, he would have laughed. No, he would have scoffed. Indignant, disgusted, He would have been dismissive, saying things about how it was against the holy scripture, and how he could do way better than the personified human version of arrogance that was Altair.

But it had happened.

Malik did consider it before, if he and Altair were to be together. It couldn't happen.

One day, life was going to get in the way. One of them could die any moment, because in the end, they were still assassins. The Brotherhood was prospering under Altair's rule and he didn't have time to search for a suitor, nevertheless have a lover. Altair would leave him and find a wife to settle down with. He would live a long fulfilling life with her, with his children, giving them better chances that he never had.

Malik couldn't give him any of that.

But he knew that it wasn't just aesthetic appreciation anymore. His eyes lingered for too long on Altair he wondered what it would feel like to run his hand down his body. To feel his lips down his skin, to hear them whisper things only meant for him to hear. To see him smile because of him, a rare sight that had Malik convinced it could rival the dawn sunshine.

He couldn't risk to confess to Altair. Confess, then what? Have his friend turn his back on him? Have him leave? Have him be angry? He couldn't risk losing Altair, not now.

Like anyone with common sense, he kept it all to himself. Sinful thoughts of having feelings for someone of the same sex only meant a bad outcome. It was supposed a man and a woman, not a man and a man. But he desired both. He could see himself settling down with a woman, but why did he desire a man? Why did he desire Altair?

It was wrong, he was wrong.

And for years, the same internalized thought of his feelings being wrong, of them all being a sin, haunted Malik endlessly. Sleepless nights and buried desires leaving him with thoughts that plagued him for nights, ridding him of his sleep.

Acceptance to himself and his feelings came in the form of two bleeding novices.

He never forgot the pair. Talil and Jaul, best friends since childhood. Born into the Brotherhood and raised in the same village. Two novices sent out to track down a Templar convoy. They were only a handful of years younger than him, and were average assassins.

He was about to close the shop in the late evening when he saw Jaul carrying Talil. Blood spilling down their robes and faces,

Talil had bled too much. Had Jaul waited another hour, he would have been far from help. All that was left to do was have him rest and recover, and to hope for the best.

Once Jaul had gotten Talil settled, he handed the two blood stained feathers to Malik. Another assignment done, ready to be reported to headquarters. Malik sent the pigeons out to arrive by the following morning.

He went to take a bath and forgot about his problems for a moment. He never forgot the way that Jaul held Talil's head and cradled it.

"Talil, Please, I love you. Do not die, my love. Please."

The panic that shook Jauf's voice tugged at his heart, stirring Malik's own concern. How terrified he had been when Altair collapsed into the garden with his entire midsection stained in blood. How he stayed at his side and closed the shop for three days until the infection passed.

He was terrified that Altair would have died right there and there.

To make his presence known, Malik cleared his throat. Jaul jumped and let go of Talil, terrified. Stuttering, he froze in fear and tried to speaking, only to have Malik hold his hand out and say, "Dry your eyes, novice. Talil will live."

"I-I-I can explain," Jaul said.

Malik shook his head and said, "You don't have to. Your secret is safe with me."

They ate dinner in silence until Malik had asked, "You love him, don't you?"

Jaul blushed, a ghost of a smile on his face."Yes," he said. "We've...We've been together for three years."

Since they were recruits, then.

"Thank you for keeping it a secret," Jaul said, relieved. "It means a lot."

"You're welcome."

The following morning, Malik was preparing breakfast with the help of Jaul. Talil had waken up and the first thing he called out was Jaul's name.

Jaul looked up in permission and Malik nodded, letting him go. The boy practically jumped out of his chair and ran down the hall and into the guest quarters, not hiding this enthusiasm.

Through the open door, Malik saw them embrace and exchange a kiss on the lips. And another. And another. How blissfully happy they were, relieved to be in each other's arms, how happy they were to be in love.

Malik merely left to tend to the counter and opened up for the day.

The day continued being uneventful and Jaul helped Malik run errands. Talil stayed in bed and slept some more, the loss of blood during the previous day rendering him dizzy.

There was a sofa that had been placed in the guest quarters months ago, when Malik had spent the night tending to an injured assassin. But the sofa sat unused. Now with Talil stable, Jaul had slid carefully next to him on the bed and slept as peacefully as he could. His arms wrapped around his waist, head resting on his shoulders.

Malik went to shut the door and stood there for a few moments, watching the young couple sleep comfortably. never forgot.

It was love. Blissful, pure love. Nothing sinful, nothing wrong.

Love.

It amazed him that despite the denouncement that society had against it, they still loved each other. Love in the most unadulterated, pure form. And for the ones that were careful about it, it only meant intimacy in secret meetings and late night visits. Like Jaul and Talil, sleeping peacefully in each other's arms in the same bed.

Love was love. It wasn't a sin, it wasn't wrong. Seeing Jaul so happy with Talil made him ease himself at some peace. To quit internalizing it and to accept it. Love was love, and he wasn't wrong. He wasn't a bad man.

He was merely in love.

The memory never left Malik's mind. Being the rafiq that he was, he always set aside his own thoughts when he was working. Deeply focused in his writing, in his research, he managed to not lose his concentration on other trivial things. Not that being in love with Altair was trivial.

Perhaps it had to do with the way Altair looked at him, with softness he never knew he had. How he didn't look at him in pity, or fear, but rather respect and to an extent, admiration. He knew this because the time he did see him smile, it stayed with him for weeks. Ingrained into his memories, a sight to come back to whenever he wanted.

Damn it all. He was in love.

**Not my best ending, but it does the trick! Thank you for reading!**


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